


They Say Chivalry is Dead

by oldhetaliafics (BisKitty)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 11:39:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3326060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BisKitty/pseuds/oldhetaliafics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally written for Sweethearts Week 2012</p><p>ASoIaF/Game of Thrones AU, Alfred and Arthur's lives seem to clash and intertwine in odd ways. From rebel battles to the northern wall, the two can't seem to get away from the other</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Say Chivalry is Dead

“Are the royalists so desperate that they’re letting a bastard fight, Lord Storm of house Kirkland?” Ser Alfred Jones glared into the green eyes of his enemy, locking swords with the other man. Alfred was a young man of seventeen years, with blonde hair that could never behave and bright blue eyes that darted from place to place with curious interest. His armor was new, hardly tested outside of training, but Alfred had a certain brute strength about him that gave him an edge in combat.

Arthur simply let out a laugh and said, “Better to be a bastard than a traitor, Ser Jones.” Arthur Storm was the bastard of House Kirkland, but he was not to be underestimated. He was lithe, but muscular. That is, he might have been lacking in brute strength, but more than made up for it with speed and cunning. His blonde hair was matted, and he wore armor that was certainly well-used. Only the best for a bastard.

House Jones had swiftly joined in the rebellion against the Mad King, Aerys Targaryen, whereas the proud and old House Kirkland had remained loyal to the Targaryen Dynasty. Thus, the Seven Kingdoms erupted into a violent conflict of succession.

If it were not for the battle, the day would have been perfectly lovely. The sky was clear, and the air was crisp and not particularly hot. Instead, it was now polluted with the stink of blood and sweat, blinding with the glimmer of armor and weapons, and deafening with the sounds of war cries.

Arthur was focused on beheading or at least stabbing the Jones boy, but Alfred was tough and unfortunately, a worthy enemy. The other knight was hammering down on him, and Arthur considered himself lucky to be able to return the blows. Arthur twisted himself out of the way, getting dirt in his hands and tossing it in Alfred’s face.

The young knight cursed, trying to clear his eyes so he could just see. But it was too late, Arthur had knocked him onto his back. The green-eyed man stepped on Alfred’s chest and pointed a sword at the knight’s neck.

“Have you no honor?” Alfred spat at the man above him.

“Honor? That only goes to the trueborn sons of lords. Rather, I like the sound of keeping my head than that petty honor,” Arthur chuckled.

“Why haven’t you killed me yet?!”

“Good point,” Arthur agreed, and lifted his sword up- only to find that the royalist side was retreating. He gave Alfred a good kick to the head before running to catch up with his allies.

It wasn’t much longer before the King was slain on his throne, the iron throne, and King’s Landing was sacked. The Targaryens were practically destroyed, and Robert’s rebellion won. The House Kirkland did not survive the war either, with many of its sons lost in the war and the land given to another house who assisted the new King.

Alfred would not see Arthur again for five years, when he was twenty-three, and Arthur was twenty-seven. Just a few weeks prior, Alfred had been caught spending the night with a dark-haired nobleman from a far off land. Rather than deal with the disgrace, Alfred was sent North, as far North as one could go, to The Wall which separated the civilized lands of the Seven Kingdoms from the wild lands beyond.

Once the Night’s Watch had been an honorable duty for noblemen and knights, defending the realm, but now it was more a profession for outcasts, criminals, bastards, and the like. It was no secret that the Wall that stretched from one end of the North to the other was badly manned.

Alfred stretched his head up, barely able to see the top of the vast wall that loomed more like a cliff than any man made structure. So this was to be his new home, this outpost on this godsforsaken tundra where only ice and snow was plentiful.

He was alerted by a vaguely familiar chuckle. He turned his head to see Arthur, not clothed in the dull armor of his family, but the black of the Night’s Watch. The older man’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he smirked at Alfred.

“Welcome to the Night’s Watch, Jones. Be sure to watch your step.”

The young knight was whisked away for the start of his training before he had a chance to comment. He joined the other new recruits in training. Alfred had a relatively easy time, considering he had prior combat experience. Despite being a prankster and a free spirit, Alfred knew when to shut up and obey. He was going to perform this job with honor and show that he was going to be a better Night’s watchman that Arthur Storm would ever be.

The thought of serving alongside the man who had nearly slit his throat was a bit sickening to Alfred. He glanced over his shoulder. What was to stop Arthur from stabbing him in the back and tossing him off the side of the Wall? The Vow of the Night’s Watch would not be likely to stop the ruthless man.

Alfred expected Arthur to come sneaking up to him, or at least talk to him. However, the other man kept mostly to himself, going about his duties or simply enjoying a cup of tea in the corner. Alfred could hardly believe that this was the same man he had fought. Where were the harsh words and the bloodthirsty smirk?

Alfred’s training finished, and he was assigned to be a ranger of the Night’s Watch (like Arthur himself). It was little surprise, since Alfred was a hardy young man who was skilled in combat, which meant that he was more likely to survive forays into the northern wilds, beyond the wall.

Alfred approached the sept, and began his vows:

“Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all nights to come.”

Alfred left the sept and headed into the dining hall. He was hungry and needed something warm to fill him up. He sat at the old wooden table, aged and marked with use and probably hadn’t been replaced or even repaired in decades. Alfred was surprised when someone else sat next to him.

“Come to finally finish the job, Arthur?” he asked, earning a chuckle in response.

“Why would I? The war’s been lost, and your Robert Baratheon sits on the iron throne. My house is all but destroyed, and now you’re my brother in black. There’s naught that I would gain,” Arthur replied, taking another sip of his ever-present tea. Alfred hadn’t seen Arthur without a cup since he had arrived at Castle Black.

“You would keep your vow?”

“It’s all I’ve got left. I was never the treacherous type anyways. I simply don’t fight fair. The wildlings, creatures, and the cold up North hardly care about honorable fights anyways. I suppose you should keep that in mind, Ser Alfred.”

The two remained quiet after that. Once the meal was done, they parted ways for the time being. But, seeing as they were residents of the understaffed Castle Black, it was certain that their paths would cross frequently. In fact, they often found themselves posted to the very top of The Wall.

In times such as those, they huddles around a fire, trying to keep away from the icy winds that slid up the ice-covered stone. The sight of the desolate wall and the eerie forest of the wilds was rather demoralizing. It was nearly impossible to see signs of civilization from where they were.

“It’s hard to believe that this was once an honorable post. It seems to fit bastards and criminals perfectly… But then again, where do you fit in? Are you a bastard or a criminal, Alfred?” Arthur stuck his gloved hands under his arms, bracing himself against the cold.

“I got caught in bed with a good looking guy. Plus, well, Mom and Pops had a lot of kids and don’t want to divide up our funds too much. At least my brother Mattie will have a place now. Wait- what does this matter to you?”

“Still upset about that battle, Alfred? It seems so far away now. Even the rest of the Seven Kingdoms seems so distant.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it before. Everything is the Wall and the Night’s Watch for us,” Alfred looked away from the fire for a moment, staring at the distant horizon.

“They only say it because it is true. If you do leave this, you lose your head. We are utterly bound to this place, and we have to stay here,” Arthur’s gaze never shifted from the fire.

“Don’t you get homesick?”

“To be frank? No. It’s tiring being a worthless bastard, and at least here I am equal with my brothers. And even if I did go home, there’d simply be nothing. Were you not aware that that House Kirkland is all but destroyed? So this is what we got for being loyal to the Targaryens for all these centuries,” Arthur glared into the fire, as if remembering something hateful.

“I… I’m sorry. I’m just a bit homesick, and this is so… empty,” Alfred shuddered.

Arthur glanced up at the fire and smirked at Alfred. “Perhaps when we return to our barracks, I can certainly find a way to warm you up,” he murmured softly. Alfred nearly choked when his mind supplemented this with the oh-so subtle reminder that the vows only explicitly stated not to take women to bed.

Alfred found himself unable to refuse Arthur’s offer.


End file.
